


light & loyal

by heatgeneratingtechniques



Series: one-word prompts [4]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Merman Rhett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 04:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatgeneratingtechniques/pseuds/heatgeneratingtechniques
Summary: The sun’s almost reached the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant reddish hues. The air has a slight chill to it, bearing a promise of autumn. Link floats in the shallows, dark hair undulating slowly in the rippling water. Bathed in ocean and light, he looks soft and peaceful.He almost looks like he could belong here, Rhett thinks. Almost.





	light & loyal

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a pair of prompts from anon and the lovely [the-average-bear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theaveragebear/)

Link’s out on the beach before sunrise, picking his way barefoot over the rocky pier as far out to sea as it will go. He stops on the last flat rock, still wet from high tide, and peers down at the water.

“Rhett?”

He gets down on hands and knees.

“R-”

A burst of water erupts right in his face. Link falls back with a yelp, trying to clear his eyes.

When he can see again, Rhett’s there. He’s laughing.

“Screw you!” Link shouts, but he’s laughing too.

Rhett looks almost ethereal when he’s just emerged from the ocean like this, his green-tinged scales glistening in the pre-dawn light. His gills flare as he hoists himself half out of the water.

“Good morning, Link,” he says, in a voice like the distant surf breaking against the shore.

Link succeeds in sulking for all of three seconds, then he’s back up again, leaning in for a kiss.

_God,_ he’s missed this.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Rhett whispers against Link’s mouth. He sinks back into the water until only his head is visible. “Have you come to swim with me today?”

“I’m wearing swim trunks, ain’t I?” Link slaps his thighs. “Let’s go back to the island today.”

“Hmmm…” Rhett considers this, his eyes roaming over Link’s body. “This would be easier if you were not wearing clothes.”

Link snorts. “I’m not skinny-dippin’ in the ocean, man.”

“There would be much, much less resistance if you would swim without clothes.” Rhett waggles his eyebrows, a gesture he’s learned from Link.

“Heck no!” Link gestures at the beach behind him. “There’s gonna be people here soon, and they’re gonna get worried if they find a random pair of swim trunks just sitting here.”

“Alright.” Rhett swims backward a few yards, tail moving in long, lazy strokes.

“We have the whole day together,” Link says. “You’ll have plenty of time to see me without these on.”

Rhett nods. “Are you ready to go?”

Link jumps in without a backward glance. Rhett catches him in both arms, just like he always does. He’s all skin and scales and slick, hard muscle, pressed up against Link’s back. It’s a feeling that had taken Link a while to get used to, but now he’s comfortable with it. And maybe it’s just because it’s been weeks since they’ve met, but he’d be lying if he didn’t find it slightly arousing.

“Breathe,” Rhett says.

Link sucks in a big gulp of air and shuts his eyes. He feels those muscles beneath him contract, as Rhett begins to swim. He feels the stress of the past few weeks slowly fall away the further they go from the beach. There’s just the water, the occasional moments of surfacing for air, and Rhett’s powerful arms around him.

And, ahead of them, their island hideout and the rising sun.

 

* * *

 

Link doesn’t want to leave the water.

Rhett doesn’t want him to leave either.

The sun’s almost reached the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant reddish hues. The air has a slight chill to it, bearing a promise of autumn. Link floats in the shallows, dark hair undulating slowly in the rippling water. Bathed in ocean and light, he looks soft and peaceful.

He almost looks like he could belong here, Rhett thinks. Almost, if not for the fact that he has legs instead of fins.

“Do you plan to sleep here?” he asks.

“Nah.” Link stirs, swimming lazily to Rhett’s side. Rhett recalls the first days they swam together, months and months ago. Link had almost been too afraid to put his head beneath the water, but now he was a strong swimmer.

Not as strong as Rhett, of course. No human could swim as well as him, as he loved to remind Link whenever he could.

“Hey.” Link butts his head against Rhett’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? You look sad.”

He’s looking at Rhett with his eyes so wide and bright…

“I wish you could stay,” Rhett blurts out. He feels suddenly desperate, although he’d hate to admit it.

Link must have seen something worrying in Rhett’s eyes, because he comes around behind him, wrapping both arms around Rhett’s broad shoulders. He’s solid and warm. Rhett never stops treading water, but he closes his eyes for a moment, letting himself take in as much of the moment as he could.

“I know,” Link murmurs after a moment. “I do, too.” His breath tickles, but the feeling is quickly replaced with warmth as Link presses a kiss to Rhett’s ear.

“When you’re not here…” Rhett trails off. Vocalizing his thoughts sometimes makes him nervous. “I miss you.”

“I’ll be back next weekend, I promise,” Link says softly, his voice almost blending in with the sound of the water. “And the weekend after that, and after that, and…” He chuckles, and Rhett feels the sound through his entire body. “I always keep my promises. You know that, right?”

Rhett hums in agreement.

“But I really should go, before my family starts to worry.” Link gives him one last squeeze and lets Rhett go.

They share one last kiss as the final rays of sunlight fade on the horizon. Then Link kicks off for the shore, swimming in long, steady strokes. When the water is shallow enough to stand in, he turns and give Rhett one last wave.

Rhett lifts one hand in response.

He watches Link walk barefoot up the beach in his swim trunks, staggering occasionally in the sand. He doesn’t look away until Link’s out of sight.

Then, with an enormous effort, he flexes his caudal fin and dives beneath the surface with barely a splash, trailing bubbles behind him.

The ocean feels colder when he’s alone.


End file.
